


Monster

by Jamjam494



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shane is a bad bad man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 02:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18001967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jamjam494/pseuds/Jamjam494
Summary: Shane Walsh was a monster, and he'd found his prey.





	Monster

**Author's Note:**

> The acts mentioned in this piece of fiction are not condoned by the author, nor should they be. They are horrible acts plain and simple. Not sure if I want this to be a one-shot or a series, let me know in the comments.

Shane Walsh would never call himself a good man, for good reason. Good men didn't blackmail their teachers as 15 for sex, good men didn't fuck high school girls at age 25, and good men certainly didn't fuck unknowing people in their sleep. No, good would never be accurate when describing Shane Walsh. 

Prick, asshole, fucking bastard; these he accepted without question. After all, lots of people were pricks, even more were assholes, and he was sure every man on the planet at some point had been a fucking bastard. Labels like those were commonplace and petty. Once he'd kept a tally on how many time he's been called an asshole in one day. At the end of said day he'd checked his notepad and counted 42 marks; in all honesty he was impressed. Rick had simply shaken his head tried to hide a grin under his disappointed stare.

Of all the words ever used to describe him though, his favorite was by far monster. It was so visceral, so raw, and best of all completely accurate by any normal standard. He was a monster. After all, only monsters roofied college girls and left them covered in cum. Only monsters went to elementary schools for a 'stranger danger' presentation and ended up giving a very hands on demonstration in the girls bathroom. Only a monster would babysit his best friend's sick kid, dope him up with medication, and spend hours with his fingers buried inside him. 

Sometimes he liked to pretend he wasn't a monster. That it wasn't his fault if these opportunities were practically shoved in his face. How was he supposed to say no? He wouldn't expect a starving man to turn down a buffet and so neither should he be expected to pass up a chance to get his dick wet when he was mad for it. 

Thoughts like those made him glad the world was filled with the dead. With most of the population gone there were no pesky laws to get in his way, the only rules being what the strongest decided. And Shane was the strongest. He'd spent the better part of his life turning his body into solid muscle, ensuring his place at the top even before the world fell. Most of the losers he'd arrested gave in easy enough with a hand on the shoulder and a tight squeeze. And on the rare occasion he could even fuck their brains out with a few words. After all, who'd believe some tweaked up twink over a smart, handsome, community driven police officer with a squeaky clean record who volunteered every other week. 

He'd always known he was different than everyone else. He'd first clued in when he was barely six years old. Some kid had stolen one of his toys at the playground and he'd pushed the boys face in the ground and held him there. His mother had screamed bloody murder, asking him why he thought he could do that, and the only thing he could think of was a plain why not? 

From there it had been clear that other people had strict ideas about good and bad, something he'd eventually learn were called morals, but he could never see the point. He'd play along to avoid trouble but he knew even then he'd never be like everyone else.

And so his life led him to where he was now; sitting on the top of an RV, pretending to keep watch over a useless group of people like he actually cared what happened to them. He could care less if a thousand corpses stormed the quarry right now and he wouldn't make a move to save them... well, he'd save Carl, but hardly out of the goodness of his heart. 

His real reason for keeping watch was currently sleeping not 20 feet away from him, hidden away in a tent with a loud meth head/older brother. Daryl Dixon, hopefully sound asleep, was the current object of Shane's affection. He'd known from the second those two had loudly waltzed into the camp that he'd do whatever he had to to fuck the quiet man. Watching him clean his crossbow and haul corpses and supplies had nearly driven him wild, and his patience was wearing thin. Tonight was the night though, tonight was the night he'd bury his cock into that tight ass and claim the man for himself.

He'd planned the whole thing out, sort of. A few people had returned from a massive supply run that day and Shane had ordered both Dixons to do most of the heavy lifting, and he watched gleefully and Daryl became moved slower and slower. Add to that the fact that the man had hauled a deer through the woods himself earlier that morning and Shane knew he'd sleep like a log. So when the group discussed who would take watch Shane immediately volunteered, ignoring the barely there protests that he'd taken watch the night before. After a moment the protest had turned to praise, and Shane very politely shrugged it off. Lori had called him a good man, and Shane snickered to himself, if you only knew. 

Night had fallen and as usual, the Dixons were the last to retreat to their tent. Shane's patience almost flew out the window when Daryl had bent over to go inside and Merle, being the dick he was, yanked his brother's pants down and slapped his ass, hollering about a full moon. Daryl had cursed a small storm and quickly jumped into the tent. Shane spent the next hour with his cock out, slowly stroking until it was time for the main event.

After an hour Shane decided he was done waiting and crept down from the RV. He made no attempt to be quiet, sure the brothers were dead asleep. As he approached the tent he sent a silent prayer to the gods for Merle Dixon. The genius had left their tent nearly half unzipped, and whether on purpose or accidental was anyone's guess. Maybe the man had seen Shane staring at his brother and was offering him up? Or maybe he wanted to trade, if the way he leered at Lori was any indication/ Either way Shane would thank the man in the morning, maybe give back some of the meth he'd stolen. 

Working quietly he opened the rest of the tent and took his sweet time zipping it back up. When he turned he let out a soft growl. There was Daryl on one side of the tent in nothing but a pair of loose boxers, sprawled on his stomach and ass slightly raised. Shit, maybe Daryl had asked Merle to pants him as an invitation of sorts. Yeah, he decided, that must be it. Carefully he got on all fours and crawled over to his prey. Daryl smelled like sweat and cigarette smoke, and Shane found he liked the smell. Slowly he sat back on his haunches and moved his hands to the covered ass in front of him. He gently ran his hands up and down the globes, keeping an eye on Daryl for any sort of reaction. After getting none he decided to be more confident and reached to his belt for his knife. 

He'd carefully cut the fabric away from his prize and nearly drooled when it was free. Daryl's ass had virtually no hair. The man looked baby fucking smooth and at this point Shane lost his patience. He roughly reached for the lube he'd hidden in his pocket and with a quiet squelch coated his fingers. With practiced ease he spread the man's cheeks and smoothly started pushing a finger in. A soft moan escaped him when he found almost no resistance. Daryl must have wanted this to happen. He probably wanted to beg Shane to nail him but was afraid people would think less of him, but Shane didn't. He'd own Daryl, just like he'd owned so many before him. 

It didn't take him nearly as long as he though to work Daryl open, and to his delight the man didn't even flinch, only letting out an occasional soft moan. Once Shane had comfortably worked in three fingers he decided enough was enough and withdrew. He removed his pants completely and straddled the man, squeezing out not quite enough lube to cover his dick. This was the way he preferred it however. He liked that it would cause discomfort for his partner, and he really couldn't waste the lube so freely on a cock as big as his. Shit, if Merle wasn't snoring next to him he'd probably go in dry. As it stood he needed at least some, and soon enough he was pressing the head of his cock to Daryl's exposed hole. This was when he met the resistance. His cock was huge after all, only slightly less thick than a coke can and standing a proud eight and a half inches. He paused momentarily, and decided to bend Daryl's arms behind his back. A quick turn toward his pants and he grabbed a zip tie, locking it around Daryl's wrists with a smile. Now he only needed one hand to cover his mouth and could explore with the other. 

Now confident Daryl couldn't escape him Shane started to push his cock forward with vigor. Once he was a third of the way in his prey let out a pained grunt and Shane surged forward, forcing his cock deeper while moving a hand to cover the man's mouth. He leaned into Daryl's ear as he felt the man wake under him.

“Hey baby, you wakin' up?”

With that he felt Daryl suck in a breath and he let out a low chuckle as the man weakly struggled. Happy his prey was awake he rolled his hips, forcing his cock just a bit deeper. He revelled in the weak, pain filled moan and the shiver that coursed through Daryl's body. Soon Daryl was struggling in earnest, arms tensing in the zip tie, head shaking, and grunting as much as he could with his mouth covered. 

“It's okay baby,” Shane whispered, giving his ear a swift lick. “You don't gotta pretend you don't want it. I know you got Merle to give me a peek.” Daryl replied with a grunt and a shake of his head, and that spurred Shane to start thrusting proper. He pulled out until only his head was inside and slammed back in, loving the noise it drew from the other man. 

“Fuck, Daryl,” he moaned, “You're taking me so fucking good baby. Never had anyone open up for my fingers like you did.” Shortly after he felt a wetness on his hand and turned Daryl's head, noting the tears. 

“Aw shit,” he crooned, “You don't gotta cry baby. I know how bad you wanted this.” 

Soon Shane was giving full thrusts, no longer caring about the noise. An occasional glance at Merle and the loud snoring told him an earthquake probably wouldn't wake him so he felt no need to hold back anymore. The slapping of skin, pleased moans, and muffled whimpers filled the tent and Shane fucking loved it. Loved the way he could make someone fall apart, loved the sounds Daryl was making. He knew Daryl loved it too, but it wouldn't hurt to make it good for him too. A few shifts of his hips and he grinned, noticing the sharp gasp under him. A few thrusts later and he wormed his free hand under Daryl, gripping the rapidly hardening cock. 

“Yeah,” he moaned, “I knew you wanted me. Just look at you, almost rock hard just from me fucking you.” He heard Daryl grunt under him, and if it sounded like a denial he wasn't listening. He picked up the pace and starting stroking Daryl as much as he could. It wasn't long before he felt Daryl's cock pulse in his hand and a wet heat covered his fingers. Shane soon felt his own balls tightening and he hammered, chasing his addiction. He latched onto Daryl's ear with his teeth and growled as he came, flooding the other man with heat. 

Shane's favorite part of sex was always the afterglow, that period of time when the world stopped and his mind cleared. It was the only time he wasn't putting on an act, didn't have to pretend to be weak or soft. He could acknowledge what he was completely and revel in it. But soon enough it ended, and with a kiss to Daryl's neck he lifted himself from the man. Once he moved his hands he was surprised Daryl didn't scream. Instead the only sounds the man made were heavy breaths. Shane stared at his wrecked hole as he pulled his pants back on, and leaned down to kiss the man once on the head.

“When Merle wakes up, you tell him I got a thank you present for him.”

\-- 

When Shane left Daryl didn't move. He didn't kick and scream, didn't try to free himself. He simply turned his head and whispered, “He's gone.” Merle's snoring stopped and the mans eyes casually opened with no hint of sleep. He gave his brother a quick once over and chuckled.

“Well shit baby brother, you got what you wanted, huh?” Ignoring Daryl's eye roll Merle slapped his brother on the ass before rolling over to get his knife. “So he got me a present huh?”


End file.
